


Somebody Has Santa Issues

by AHS



Category: Actor RPF, Queer as Folk (US) RPF
Genre: Christmas, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-12-28
Updated: 2007-12-28
Packaged: 2017-10-13 00:35:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/130848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AHS/pseuds/AHS
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set 1st season Christmas.  One of the boys has Santa issues and the other tries to fix it.  Suggestive and silly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Somebody Has Santa Issues

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I made this up.

“Gale.”

“………”

“ _Gale_ …”

“………”

“Gale, you’re not even stoned, so snap out of your haze, please.”

Randy delivered a gentle kick to one of the long legs under his, stretched out to the coffee table, finally obtaining its owner’s attention.

“What?”

“What is the deal with you and Santa Claus?”

Gale blinked slowly at his couch companion and forced a shrug. “There’s no deal.”

“Yes, there is. The other day, when Joe put that Santa hat and beard on camera two, you didn’t even crack a smile.”

“After the strap-on and chains they managed to put on camera one that time… seemed kinda boring.”

“And today, when you put money in that Salvation Army Santa’s bucket, it was like you had to force yourself to do it. You didn’t say anything to him, no ‘Merry Christmas’… barely even slowed down.”

“It was fucking cold, Rand. I just wanted to… keep walking, get inside.”

“Well, now we’re inside, warm and toasty in my apartment.” Extra toasty from being curled up together. “Watching _Miracle on 34 th Street_, because it’s a Christmas classic… and next week I’ll be watching corny, heartwarming shit like this with my family, and you’ll be off… doing whatever. And every time I see you start to smile at sweet, old Kris Kringle, you immediately get this guilty look on your face. What gives?” Randy had an impossible thought. “Please tell me you‘ve seen this movie before.”

“Yeah, I have… once.”

“Once? How do you manage to only see _Miracle on 34 th Street_ once in your whole life? They show it every year, incessantly. Next you’ll be telling me you’ve only seen _It’s a Wonderful Life_ once!”

“No, I saw that one a lot… It had angels in it. It was approved.”

“Huh?” Randy lifted his head from Gale’s shoulder, very confused. “What do you mean, _approved_?”

“My mother didn’t believe in the Santa shit, mostly ‘cause it takes focus off Jesus.” Gale took Randy’s hand, making ticklish, invisible scribbles on the palm with a fingertip, and spoke in a voice Randy could only guess was his mother‘s. “And, you know, you rearrange the letters… spells _‘Satan’_.”

“Holy fucking…” He’d known Gale was raised in a really religious household, but he hadn’t known it was that… insane. “Are you kidding?”

“Nah. We weren’t allowed to watch a lot of those movies… I saw it at a friend’s house when I was eight… but I was so worried I was going to hell, I couldn’t really enjoy it all that fucking much.”

“So… you didn’t grow up believing in Santa at all? Where did you think your presents came from?… Gale, please tell me you got presents.”

“Quit picturing me as some tortured kid from a Dickens novel.” Gale poked a thumb in Randy’s cheek, wanting to erase the worry. “Relax. I got presents… from my parents… as long as it was understood they were a reverent celebration of Jesus’ birthday.” He winked.

“I guess that’s… nice. It _is_ what Christmas is… So why does it sound so fucking sad?”

“Maybe it was… or is… a little bit.”

“Explains why you aren’t really very Christmas-y,” Randy decided. “You were bludgeoned over the head with the religious aspects, and the secular ones were completely demonized.”

“You talk pretty.”

Randy laughed… “You are pretty”… and kissed him quick. “I still think it’s a shame for you to hold it against Santa, though. Shouldn’t your rebel nature have made you his biggest supporter? Like it did with sex, drugs, and rock ‘n‘ roll?”

“I don’t have a problem with the fat man. Just… brings up some weirdness, is all… not like there’s not enough already on the surface…”

“Listen to me. You’re thirty-one years old. You can make your Christmas whatever you want it to be now. You can watch his movies, you can sing about him coming to town, you can even sit on his lap… Hey, that’s an idea!”

“Rand, _no_.”

“Let’s go to the mall, and you can see Santa and have a breakthrough!”

“I’ll get fucking arrested is what’ll happen… and like you fucking want to go to the mall!”

“Shit, no, but…”

“But what? What’s that smile for?”

“Oh… nothing. Really, nevermind.” Randy bit his lip, holding that thought. “Now, only two… hmm, one and a half _fuck-me_ daysbefore Christmas… You better get to it.”

Randy’s flight was on Sunday morning, so that left only tonight… and maybe the next day, if Randy even had time to see him. Gale would miss his costar/friend/fuck buddy… while he was gone.

He laughed at the bossy tone and accompanying hip swivels and followed Randy to the bedroom.

*****

  


The next day, Gale was changing his mind for the fourteenth time about whether he should actually visit his parents for Christmas, bug his sister and her family, or just fucking stay in Toronto all alone and pretend he liked it that way… when there was a knock at the door.

He opened it, and there was Randy… sort of.

“Ho, ho, ho! Have you been a good little boy?”

Randy wearing a Santa costume. The red and white, the wide black belt, the boots, sack, the hat (with blond hair peeking out), Randy‘s own little glasses… even the stuffing to make his slim waist appear round and jolly, which Gale poked with one finger. No white beard, thank goodness. And the rosy cheeks were all natural.

He looked so fucking cute.

“Or have you been a _big… bad… boy_?”

“What… are you doing?” Gale asked, pulling him inside and shutting the door. This vision of pillowy-lipped naughtiness and cartoon Christmas cheer was causing a serious conflict of mind and body.

“I wanted to give you a good Santa association.”

“If you’re trying to normalize me, you really think making me want to fuck Santa is the best way?”

“I would never try to _normalize_ you, Gale. That would be tragic. I just wanted to give you a present.”

“Yeah? What?”

“Hmm, you’ll just have to reach inside and see… I have all sorts of fun toys in here… But first, sit on my lap and answer my question.” Randy pulled out a dining chair and landed heavily in it, patting his lap and grinning.

Gale dropped his eyes, but they were still smiling. Finally giving in, he slung one arm around soft red fur shoulders and sat himself sideways upon the (usually) smaller man’s thighs, leaning his weight against the padded stomach. He couldn’t even feel ridiculous, not with Randy the one dressed like that… grabbing at his ass… and possessing the blanketed but still teasingly hard cock now nestled against his hip.

“What was the question?”

“Have you been a good boy this year?” Santa Randy asked seriously.

“Hmm… no. I’ve been naked a lot,” Gale confessed. “I’ve spent months fake-fucking guys and letting people film it. I also started fucking my costar for real, and he’s so hot I don’t see myself stopping.”

“Like I said… you’ve been a big bad boy… This Santa likes those kind the best.”

At those wicked words, Gale decided it didn’t matter what he did for Christmas, because this would be the part he liked best. He jumped up and lifted Santa Randy into his arms… only slightly awkwardly… practically swallowing his mouth, while he impressively managed to still walk them to the bedroom, and Randy inexplicably managed to hum that “I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus” song… earning a pinch, speedy clothing and stuffing removal, some fun repositioning of the hat on more excited parts of his body, and a very merry Christmas fuck.

And that’s how Randy helped Gale work out his old issues with Santa… and develop some much more disturbing new ones.

  



End file.
